


Madame Rosé

by Dousenmi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Dystopia, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-11-29 00:11:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11429133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dousenmi/pseuds/Dousenmi
Summary: Chris looked at the phone book under the section M, his fingers tingling with excitement as he moved down looking for her amidst all the M names, indeed there was an entry for "Madame Rosé". His excitement rose at this revelation, and he reached for the phone immediately, only to hesitate at the buttons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone!  
> I don't know where this idea came from, it just popped into my head out of nowhere and I thought of writing it down just for fun. It's slightly inspired by Roald Dahl's Madame Rosette in terms of the premise, but doesn't follow the rest of the plot. It's my first time writing RPF and fics of this sort after reading quite a lot of good ones. Hopefully it works, tell me what you think! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't know Chris Hemsworth or Tom Hiddleston in real life, this story uses fictionalised characterisations of them and in no way represents their real personalities and lives.

Chris was on his way home from the office when he first saw the Arse.

He was so distracted he nearly walked into someone else, sidestepping at the last minute. By the time he turned back, the Arse had gone.

Surprisingly, the next time he saw him again was the next day, in the same area just outside his favourite cafe. He caught another glimpse of the twin glorious mounds and managed to turn around in time to look his fill before the ginger man walked away. Satisfied and now hooked, Chris returned the next day at the same time but didn't see the man even after staying around for fifteen minutes. He went back home feeling disappointed.

Chris repeated the same ritual the next day and the day after that, but still the man was a no-show. He stifled his disappointment and gave himself a stern talking to; he was a grown man, it's not the first time he'd seen an Arse!

But despite what he told himself Chris was back at the same spot at the same time for one whole week. By Friday he was feeling dispirited, perhaps he should go straight home today. Walking past the cafe quickly, it was only by chance he saw the reflection of the man's distinctive curls in the shop window. Chris whirled around, heart thumping. There! Ginger Arse was right across the road, his pert bum swaying as he walked swiftly down the pavement and disappeared around the corner. Chris' heart was still going, his mood invigorated after days of waiting. He was continuing on his way home when the ridiculousness of it all started to weigh on him; it all felt a bit stalkerish and perverted of him.

He'd decided to stop this farcical act by the time he got home and flushed when he saw Liam on the sofa. His brother smirked, Liam could just _see_ that Chris had been thinking some not so innocent thoughts.  

"See someone you like?" he asked. 

"No", Chris was determined not to let Liam get the better of him, but Liam could clearly see through his bullshit and still had that irritating smirk on his face. 

"Have you ever heard of Madame Rosé?"

"She runs a most useful service you know. Any Lord sees any Arse on the streets that they like, they tell her the description and the location and she'll get them, as long as they can pay of course." Liam continued when his brother obstinately refused to give a response. 

"You're just bluffing, such a service doesn't exist!" Chris scoffed, it was the most preposterous idea he'd ever heard of. 

"It's true, just go look her up in the phone book if you don't believe me."

"The Kyoto Accord would never allow that."

"On the surface it doesn't, but the police have never really bothered to close down all these Madames. Everybody knows Arses are made to be spanked anyway, that's why they're Arses. Oh don't look like that, it's not like they're mistreated, they have jobs and fair wages and everything else that we have, but Lords spank Arses, it's a known fact, that's why Madames all over the world are doing a roaring business." 

Well, when put like that Chris really can't dispute it. It's true, all the deities and gods up there made the Arses' bottoms bigger, rounder, bouncier, perkier, firmer. Meant for spanking and groping and caressing and - Chris could feel himself relenting. 

"Go on then", Liam jerked his head towards the phone book. 

Chris hefted the phone book down from the shelf near the TV, then looked under the section M, his fingers tingling with excitement as he moved down looking for her amidst all the M names, indeed there was an entry for "Madame Rosé". His excitement rose at this revelation, and he reached for the phone immediately, only to hesitate at the buttons. 

He could feel Liam staring at him, so he picked up the phone and called. 

It was quite a few rings before the call was picked up, meanwhile Chris could feel Liam's gaze boring into his back before, a raspy voice, "Madame Rosé". 

"Um".

He cleared his throat and tried again, "Uh, I saw someone, today."

"Physical appearance and location?" her tone was brusque and businesslike, which only intensified Chris' nerves. 

"Um, very curly ginger hair, tall, male", mile-long legs, arse like a dream, his mind continued further. "Across from Cafe Amour". 

"I will contact you again, if the Arse is suitable a price will be given. You must follow rules, as well."

Chris was suddenly just remembering what Liam said about the ability to pay. "Uh, how much can I expect? And what rules?"

"Depends, can be anywhere from 200 onwards. Paid in bitcoin. The rules are simple: no permanent harm done to the Arse, no bleeding of the Arse should occur, no intercourse and no penetration by any of your body parts. Is this satisfactory?"

"O...okay", Chris was starting to regret this, 200 dollars! For some fantasy that may not even be as good as he thought, but he couldn't back out now, not with the Madame's impersonal voice down the phone and Liam's stare still focused on him. 

"I will contact you later", she said, and hung up. 

Chris was left staring at the phone, mind uncomprehending while Liam was still smirking infuriatingly. 


	2. Supplies, supplies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Hope you guys like this chapter, and concrit welcome as usual! Hugs! though I'll most likely not update till December. Thank you to everyone who gave my fic a chance! and thank you to those who commented, you really encouraged me! Thank you all round!

For the rest of the late afternoon Chris busied himself with tasks around his small flat after Liam left, but not before throwing a glib "don't forget to get supplies!" over his shoulder. Chris had regretted his rash decision before he'd even put down the phone, but it was too late now. He was all jittery, unable to sit or stand still, so he'd settled on cleaning up the flat a bit, dusting and mopping and putting things in their rightful places. Halfway through, somewhere in the back of his mind he started to think this sounded an awful lot like having someone over for the night, which he realised was true, in a way.

Chris resolutely squashed that thought down, accidentally putting the glass in his hand down more forcefully than intended. He bit back a grimace; this day was not going his way at all. Damn Liam and his Madames; Chris had never been so impulsive before.

But now that he had made the decision, he supposed it’s prudent to get some supplies, as Liam put it. Might as well make the most of his money. And even if the deal didn’t come true, well he could always use the supplies in some other capacity.

Surprisingly, this was the difficult part. Tracking down a reputable shop with a large enough variety in a discreet enough location was hard work.  
But oh, was the shopping heavenly. Anything he could possibly have wanted plus some he didn’t even know he did, in different shapes, sizes, textures, materials, brands, was available. It was like a Whole Foods or large farmers’ market for, ahem, niche supplies, odd though the comparison when he thought about it.

Chris thought that he must come back another day to get another proper look, for now, he satisfied himself with picking up what he’d already had in mind. Just as he left, he threw another look at the cane section; he'd been eyeing that section ever since he'd come in, he'd even run his fingers across a few of them. A long, lovely specimen, about the width of his index finger, the length of slightly more than half a metre, fairly whippy. It'd been touted "The Authentic British Cane for a British Spanking" and Chris was hooked. No idea why it was called British though, it was made in China. Maybe a British styled cane? Did the Brits spank differently from the rest of the world? He did remember that they seemed to have a fondness for spanking.

Another specimen he'd stroked lovingly was a fairly short and stout one, but with two attached to one handle, about an inch apart. He could just imagine the use for that, perfect for delivering two searing strokes at once, leaving two pink stripes, perfectly distanced, at the same time; while surely drawing a squeal from the Arse, bent over the bed, or no, his lap, hmm...

But alas, canes are probably a bit too much, maybe when he's had a few experiences (is he going to have a few experiences? He hadn't thought of making a habit of contacting Madame Rosé); he didn't want to really hurt the Arse after all.

So Chris paid for his few purchases and left the store, proceeding as casually as possible towards his car, then storing the goods as discreetly as possible in the boot, before driving home, his heart inexplicably thumping hard in his chest, as if he'd just escaped from a heist.

By the time he'd made it back home he'd calmed down, thankfully, as Madame Rosé had called just then and informed him the deal was made and would he make payment please. By busying himself finding out how to convert his real money into bitcoin and how to pay her he'd managed to get his impending "activity" out of his mind, or he'd never get anything done, with the way he was all nerves and butterflies like a teenage boy before a date.

After some fumbling around he'd managed to create his very first cryptocurrency wallet (so exciting! even if it's really just where you keep your "keys" and your money), and paid the Madame via BitPay.

It's been an hour since then, and Chris was a bit...lost.

He'd been pacing in his flat, just waiting, and arranging things, and waiting again. He couldn't explain why he felt like that, it was all fine, all done, all legitimate and done and dusted, and he should really stop feeling out of his element. Come on! He'd done this before; spanked all his previous girlfriends and boyfriends, albeit playfully, but it wasn't the first time he was going to bring his hand down on a bare bottom.

About that, should he go bare bottom? Was it a bit too much? But then what was the point of ordering an Arse if he wasn't going to marvel at and apply his arm to a bare bottom, that was the whole point! To gaze at and use that marvel of nature.

Bare it is then. Oh he can just imagine it now, the ginger Arse's bare bottom, turning from a milky white to a light pink, then a dark red, loud cries coming from his mouth, hands fisting into the sheets, while Chris continued pounding his bottom until it starts to bruise. Yes, Chris decided, he might as well go all the way, he was not going to stop at red, he was going to make sure the Arse couldn't sit for a week without thinking of Chris, he was going to colour his bottom red and purple, cycling through various implements.

Embarrassingly, his breath now came short and shallow, and his spine was all tingly just thinking about it.

Right at that moment, the doorbell rang.

Chris was jolted out of his daydream (fantasy about to come true?), and he fumbled for his keys, tying an apron around his waist while he tripped his way over to the door.

It was indeed a strange sight that greeted him at the door: two beefy guys, dressed in sharp black suits and sunglasses like people out of Men in Black, and holding between them, the Arse, recognisable by his wild hair, blindfolded, bound, and gagged. Chris suddenly couldn't speak at the sight of him, his breath choked in his throat and his hands trembled, and even if he could he wouldn't know what to say either. Thankfully, the bodyguards just hauled the Arse through the door and unceremoniously dumped him there before leaving without a word. They even thougtfully shut the door on their way out. They must know their clients liked to get on with it.

And so Chris was left standing in his living room, bound Arse at his feet.

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you think? Should I continue? I admit it's a weird story, I can't believe this came out of my brain. *Dunks head under water*  
> But it's here now, for better or worse.


End file.
